


A Different Path

by mightstill



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-04
Updated: 2009-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightstill/pseuds/mightstill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adamverse; memory-altered Gwen & Ianto have a run in, so to speak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Path

Gwen’s fidgety and restless. She trusts Jack when he says she doesn’t have to worry, that she’s safe with Rhys, but there’s the itching at the back of her brain that she can’t quite ignore. She doesn’t remember Rhys and looking around her flat to see pictures of them everywhere is stifling. She knows she should feel guilty - there must be something terribly wrong with her if she’s forgotten her fiancé - but she doesn’t, and Rhys telling her she should feel guilty doesn’t help.

Deciding she needs some air, she jots down a note to let Rhys know where she’s going. She ignores the fact that it’s something you do for people you care about and grabs her purse (checking that her gun is inside), and leaves.

The cool night air does wonders for clearing her head. Inside, the flat is stuffy and her brain feels like it’s on fire. She can’t really remember him but once in a while she’ll get glimpses, random images of them together, laughing or fighting or fucking. But she can’t feel any of it, they’re just pictures in her head. She’s not sure if they’re bits of memory trying to seep through or her imagination. All night people have been telling her that her memory is wrong, that she loves Rhys, that they’re getting married, and she thinks maybe she’s trying to force it. Make things up that sound right.

Outside, however, things settle into place. Her thoughts feel more solid, her memories sharper, and the confusion ebbs away. She’s Gwen Elizabeth Cooper. Former police constable, now second in command for a secret organization that handles extraterrestrial life. She’s 29 and single, and she shakes off memories of her last bad breakup. She can recall having a fling with Owen a while ago, which ended for several reasons. He’s not even close to being her type and he’s very obviously got a thing for Tosh – there’s only so long you can empathize with someone before it’s too much.

She can recall in vivid detail when she joined Torchwood. The excitement and the terror, what it first felt like to see someone be brought back to life, and quite frankly how much she wanted to drag Jack off to most convenient spot and fuck him senseless. The familiarity and realness of the memory comforts her and she relaxes. She doesn’t want to head to the Hub and face all the judgement and questions and, god forbid, orders she go back home, so instead she takes a sharp turn in the other direction and just walks, heading wherever and not really thinking about it. It’s freeing and the more she walks the better she feels.

She’s not at all paying attention when she walks into something solid and warm, her brain taking a few seconds to process that it’s a person. She doesn’t look up as she apologizes but the hand now gripping her arm prevents her from continuing forward and she looks up in alarm. Gwen relaxes again when she sees that it’s Ianto. She notices that they’re in an alley which would concern her more if he wasn’t there, so she manages a small smile at him, ignoring the sort of wild look in his eyes.

“Ianto. What’re you doing out here?”

It takes him a moment to answer – he looks confused and slightly paranoid – but when he finally does answer he’s calm and collected and any worry eases from her mind. “I could say the same for you.”

She frowns a little. “I just.. I couldn’t stay there anymore. I know, I know, but it was uncomfortable and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out.”

He nods slowly, and Gwen’s grateful for the non-judgmental look in his eyes. “I get what you mean. I.. really needed to get out, too.” She’d ask why, but she notices that his voice is much deeper than she’s used to hearing and his hand keeps balling into a fist and then flexing again. She recognizes the restlessness and decides they could both use a drink.

“Come on,” she says, getting his attention from wherever he was staring off to over her should, “Come with me. We could use a distraction and this alley’s kinda creepy.” His eyes darken for a moment but she’s smiling brightly at him and he seems to relax again. She grabs his hand and turns to go to the closest pub.

An hour later, Gwen decides that getting trashed with Ianto is one of the best ideas she’s had in a long time. She had bought the first round because he was still hesitant, still looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Or perhaps somewhere else specific, Gwen isn’t sure which. But now he’s relaxed and laughing, the light returned to the blue in his eyes. It’s almost startling. Gwen hasn’t seen Ianto like this since longer than she can remember, if ever.

She grins at him, taking a sip of her mixed drink – she’s long since forgotten what it even is anymore – and playfully kicks him under the table. “Why’ve we never done this before? You and I?”

Ianto answers quicker than Gwen thinks he ought to. “Jack.” She nods in agreement, grateful he didn’t say Rhys, who she forgot about almost entirely in the last hour. She wants to keep forgetting about him, so she takes another sip to dull the itch at the back of her brain. “Well, Jack can go….” Her voice trails off and she finds herself grinning again. “I don’t know what, but he can go do it.”

Ianto’s laugh is loud and unapologetic and it makes Gwen feel really good, even better than the fresh air and the alcohol. “Whatever it is, I can guarantee you, Jack’s already doing it.”

“No surprise there,” she manages before falling into giggles. He’s laughing with her, and Gwen notes that whatever was bothering him earlier is miles away. It’s been a good night, despite the obvious, and she doesn’t want it to end just yet. She finishes her drink and looks squarely at him in the silence that’s settled between them. “I don’t want to go home tonight.”

“I don’t want to go back to the Hub,” he confesses, letting out a bit of a sigh. Gwen’s not entirely sure where that came from but she figures it must have something to do with why he was fidgety earlier, and she’s the last person to judge in this situation. She nods, and the smile returns to her lips. “Your place? I’m sure you’ve got a comfy sofa I can sleep on.”

The walk back to his flat (“It’s not that far,” he promises, “and it’s a nice night.”) is more awkward than she thought it would be. They’re both drunk, though the cool air is sobering, but Ianto keeps zoning out, his thoughts far away until she gets his attention again and he relaxes. She figures he’s getting lost in his own head and she knows from experience how dangerous that can be, so she grabs his hand and promises to keep his attention all night.

She’s not really surprised when she winds up not on his sofa but in his bed, with his lips on her bare stomach. Her jeans are unzipped and her shirt has long since been discarded somewhere on his floor, possibly in the other room, mingling with the bits of his clothes that are missing too. Her hand tangles in his short hair as he moves lower, tugging the denim off her hips. By the time they’ve gotten every last strip of clothing off of each other they’re both so impatient that she only just manages to roll the condom onto him before he’s inside her.

And when he is, it’s like nothing she can remember feeling.

She grips onto him tightly, leaving scratches down his back as he thrusts into her, slowly and achingly completely. She pulls him down into a desperate kiss, because she can’t quite seem to get enough, though she gasps against his lips when his hand brushes her breast. He grins and nearly chuckles against her skin as she writhes beneath him. The only hint that he’s even slightly out of control is his ragged breath. He kisses down to the soft spot between her neck and shoulder, and she groans at the heat of his mouth on her skin.

He’s not looking at her then, and she notices he becomes a little distracted, but fuck as long as he keeps doing _that_ , she doesn’t really mind. His hand lingers on her breasts for a moment, as any last traces of coherence leave her, before sliding up further to rest on her collarbone. She feels the slight pressure then, though she hardly registers it. It just seems to intensify everything anyway – his hand is on her pulse and she can feel and hear how hard her heart is pounding. She hears their combined labored breath – and shit, this really is some of the best sex she’s ever had, isn’t it? She’ll have to remember that, maybe Jack won’t mind sharing.

She still hardly notices when his hand pushes up just a little further, pressing down on her windpipe, because she is _so close_ and she’s hardly breathing properly anyway. She manages to push out just enough breath to moan his name and he stills, immediately pulling his hand away. She gasps, a rush of air flowing into her lungs and he shifts to look at her. She can’t help but giggle at the slightly horrified look on his face. “Well don’t stop there.” Something passes over him and he seems to shake off whatever little moment that was before crushing his lips to hers. One of her hands tangles in his hair as he starts moving again and it’s only a matter of moments before they’re both pushed over the edge in a mess of moans and cries and desperate whispers.

He pulls out of her a moment later, moving to discard the condom, and she sits up pulling the sheets up around her. He sits on the bed next to her and they remain silent for a moment, the sound of their breaths regulating filling the room up. They’re a mess; skin sweaty and hair sticking in all directions, and yet Gwen wants to hold onto this moment. Curious, she looks over his back where she scratched him – surprisingly deep and red but not enough to break the skin. “Jesus,” she breathes. “I nearly drew blood.”

He sighs, his head drooping. “I think we should go back to the Hub. There’s something.. Something’s not right.”

She can’t help her smirk, and she leaves her hand where it is, lightly brushing his back. “What, because we just had amazing sex?” She watches him blush, a faint grin playing on his lips as well.

“No, not because of that.” He finally looks up at her, the grin gone again. “But something’s.. wrong. With me. And I think we need to go figure out what’s going on before it gets worse.”

He looks worried, bordering on terrified, and Gwen has to stop herself from pulling him into a hug. She’s still hesitant to go back to the Hub, but it’s still better than home, and she doesn’t want to ignore Ianto’s worry. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Shower first, though?” Her hand finds his and squeezes, and he nods, getting up to pull her into the bathroom.


End file.
